


Cuddle Stuffums [2P!America/Allen Jones]

by Zuliet



Category: 2P Hetalia - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 08:03:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3521660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zuliet/pseuds/Zuliet





	Cuddle Stuffums [2P!America/Allen Jones]

               You cuddle the doll close to your chest; it was your most treasured possession. It was the very first doll your mother ever made you. It was a rag dolled named 'Annie.' She had blonde yarn hair with a thick braid going across the top of her head; you wanted to give her another face lift but just never got around to it. Annie's face was drawn on in sharpie and she had a dot of brown dried glue in-between her eyes; on one cheek a purple, decade old lip print. Her clothes were simple: a brown-ish red plaid dress with a glued on white apron with a pocket and a button at the collar. Your mother had gone so far as to, not only draw shoes and socks, but also purple bloomers and write the dolls name and year of creation on the butt.

You adored the doll so much, and had carried it around often as a child. Since moving in with Allen, your boyfriend, into a duplex and unpacking your stuff, you had yet again begun to carry said doll around. Everywhere you went, one could be sure you had that doll in hand. If not, then it was in your purse. You had begun to feel like Linus with his security blanket. However, you didn’t mind the looks you got as a grown woman with a security doll.

               While no one else seemed to mind Annie, there was one person who despised that doll - Allen. How you held it closely, cooed to it, joked with it. One might dare say he was jealous of it; of the attention you gave it and the intimate and careful handling you treated it with. And though it was probably stupid, he glared at that doll, which you often had nuzzled to your bosom, always vaguely fearful it'd turn to glare back at him. Allen hated Annie. It was just a neutral gendered piece of cloth to him. A child's toy. You hadn’t bothered to tell him anything about it. So far as Allen knew, you unpacked it, squealed and hugged it and haven’t left it alone since. Even when you two had sex, it sat on the headboard, taunting him; as if to say 'I’m always watching.' It sat on the coffee table when you two made out on the couch. It was with you in the bathroom, getting changed, going to the store, going to bed (which he found alright since that was a doll's original purpose), over to a friend's house, to a party, to a World Meeting...the list went on and on. He envied that doll, it almost seemed as if it knew more about you then he did. At times Allen felt silly, getting angry at a piece of cloth. But most of the time he wanted to rip it out of your hands and tear it up piece by piece. But he daren't tell you that.

 

               At the current, you and Al are cuddled on the couch watching the new horror movie you bought him for his birthday. You’re leaned against him, his arm on your waist and you have Annie in front of your face as a shield. Allen's eyes slide to the doll as you squeal and lift the cloth in front of your face.

               "You shouldn’t be watching this Annie," you mumble to the doll and turn her away from the TV screen. "You'll get nightmares...is it over?" Carefully, you peek out from around the doll, slowly turning her so she can see the screen too. You giggle to yourself as you sigh in relief, and nuzzle the back of Annie's head affectionately with your nose. "You're silly, Annie, it wasn’t that scary! Don’t be such a scaredy doll!" You laugh at yourself, and then plant a kiss on the back of the doll's head. This little scene seems to push Allen over the edge, for he suddenly rips the doll out of your hands. You yipe, grasping at the emptiness between your palms. You look over to see Allen glaring at you, and squeezing Annie in a tight, angry grip. "Be careful with her, Allen, you'll hurt her!" You go to reach for the doll, but he pulls it away.

               "Enough with the damn doll, [Name]!" Allen growls, causing you to cautiously move out of his grip and to the other end of the couch. "I don’t fucking understand what the hell is so damn special about this piece of junk!" You gasp, your eyes widening at his harsh words.

               "S-She's not junk," you breathe shakily, "now give her back." You begin to feel empty without that object in your possession, watching helplessly as she’s roughly handled.

               "No!" spits Allen, "I’m fucking sick of you lovin' up on this stupid thing so much! It's embarrassing to be seen with someone who still carries around a doll! You're not a kid! You can survive without the damn thing! It's nothing special! Just scrap cloth!" You feel tears in your eyes, a large hole in your being.

               "T-Take that back," you say quietly, then scramble over to grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him close and growling. "Take that back!" Allen glares up at you,

               "No way! Now I'll show you that you can live without this stupid thing!" Allen pushes you back across the couch then grips Annie's arms in both hands. You gasp as you realize what he is going to do.

               "Don’t, Allen! Put her down!" you beg, tears now flowing out of your eyes. Allen smirks and then pulls; one of Annie's arms rips off with a sickening _tear_. You feel like someone stabbed you through the heart. "No! _Annie_! ... Allen! _Stop_!" But Allen only tears off her other arm, then rips her hands from her dress sleeves, which serve as her arms. He, then, proceeds to tear off her legs, causing you to scream again. With each thing torn, you break a little more. It’s like watching your child get ripped apart in front of you. Allen pulls off some of Annie's hair, then tears off her apron and rips her dress. Then, and most horrifically of all, he pulls a switch blade out of his pocket.

               "Say goodbye to your doll," he growls, then sinks the knife through her neck and proceeds to cut her head off. When he’s done, Allen tosses the parts onto the coffee table. You stare wide eyed at him, then turn your tearing eyes to your darling doll. You reach forward, picking up her head and body. This causes you to break down into hard sobs and large tears. You can’t _believe_ he tore apart Annie. All because you gave her attention. "See, you're fine." This causes you to shoot a glare at him as he reaches for you.

               " _Don’t_ _touch_ _me_! You _bastard_!" you yell, causing him to rethink his touch. You cradle the pieces to your chest.  "Shh, it's ok. Mommy's here," you coo to the doll."___'s got you. You're going to be okay." You sniffle and stand up, gather the rest of Annie's pieces then grab your purse.

               "Where the hell are you going?" asks Allen, watching as you head to the front door.  You glare back at him, your hand tightly gripping the door handle.

               "Far away from you, doll murderer!" you spit, then walk out the front door and slam it behind you; you have Annie's pieces in your purse. Allen stares at the back of the front door, _what the hell just happened?_

               You decide to head to the nearest place that might have a needle and thread - the FACE household. Well...since Allen moved out it’s more the FCE household. It isn’t a very far drive, but walking you know it will be, at least, double the time. As you walk you pull your hood up and keep your head down, not wanting people to see that you were crying and your running make up.  You feel a little numb, like you watched a loved one die. Memories of the doll flood your brain, all her different make-overs and when you'd set up a nursery in your room for baby dolls. Annie was always there. How could Allen be so insensitive? Could he not see that the doll brought you joy?

 

               It’s a warm July night, much to your relief. You hear fireworks going off, since it is the Fourth of July. You’re walking past a neighbourhood in town when you hear something rustle in the bushes, but you shake it off.

               “It’s all in your head, it had nothing to do with Allen’s horror movie,” you remind yourself quietly. But then the rustle comes again, sending warm terror through your body. You squeal, recoiling away from the bushes and then begin to quicken your pace and make a bee-line for the FCE household.

 

               A twenty minute walk later, you find yourself on the front stairs to the FCE household. You sniffle, knocking on the door. You laugh some as you hear Oliver's voice from inside.

               "I'll get it!" He sings and a moment later the door opens. "Hello, can I help you?"

               "Hey Oliver," you say weakly, looking up to meet his eyes. He’s a bit taken aback from your appearance. "Would you happen to have a needle and some thread?"

               "[Name],  come in, come in, poppet. What happened?! You look as though you've been crying and where's Allen?" Oliver pulls you in and sits you on a sofa in the living room. You take off your shoes and sit with your knees to your chest.

               "I don’t even want to hear his stupid name," you sob, Oliver puts a hand on your arm.

               "What happened?" he asks lightly, you peer up at him.

               "Allen's stupid face happened!" you whine, then grab your purse, sobbing harder and whining louder."H-he - doll - tear - mama - jerk." Oliver puts his hands on your shoulders,

               "Breathe, [Name], breathe."

               "Did I hear, [Name]?" inquired Matt, popping his head around the corner. "What happened to you?" You take a deep breath to calm yourself.

               "A-Allen...h-he tore apart m-my doll," you say, wiping at your tears.

               "You mean the one you've been carrying with you?" asks Oliver noticing that the doll was, in fact, not in your possession; you nod then pull out her pieces. Matt silently comes to sit on a chair to the side of the couch.

               "I-I think he was jea-jealous of it," you state, "he said he was tired of me ‘lovin’ up on it’, whatever that means. Then he called her a stupid piece of junk and he tore her apart."

               "Why is the doll so important?" Matt asked lightly, looking between the pieces and you.

               "This is the first doll my mama ever made me. Here lately it's become something of a security object for me. So - I feel like a family member has just been murdered." Oliver's eyes widen as he wraps you in a hug.

               "Oh, Poppet, I'm so sorry," he coos gently. "I might just have matching thread if you wish to mend it." You pull away and smile sadly at him, giving him a nod. Once Oliver’s out of the room, you hear Matt mutter.

               “I’ll kick his ass.” You don’t say anything to this, no approval or disapproval. Quite actually, you felt like taking that bat of his and breaking it into pieces then slowly burning each part in front of his eyes. You shake your head, laughing at yourself, knowing it will never work. He doesn’t let you touch that thing _now_ , you didn’t think he’d let a pissed off you anywhere near it! Hell, he’d probably hide it in fear you’d make it turn on him. But, so is your life.

               “Here you are, love!” pipes Oliver ten minutes later, emerging from the door he exited through. “Took me a while to find it, Francois appears to have shoved most of my stuff into a closet again.”

               “That’s because all your stuff is pink,” you hear Francois grumble, coming down the stairs. You chuckle at him, the smell of a lit cigarette greeting your nose before he even enters the room.

               “Hey, Francey,” you greet quietly, looking over the back of the couch at him. He cocks an eye brow at you.

               “I’m not even going to ask. But I’m going to say it has something to do with Allen.” You blush and look away, “thought so. I told you before when you two started dating: love isn’t real.”

               “Shut up,” you groan, turning back to your doll. Oliver helps you cut your thread and then put it through the needle. “Thanks, Oliver, you’re the best.” He puts a hand on your head and smiles at you,

               “No problem, poppet,” he says tenderly. By now Francois has come to sit in the chair opposite Matt.

               “Isn’t that the doll you carry around?” he asks once you start sewing. You nod without looking up at him,

               “Yeah,” you say quietly, “it is. If you want to know happened, then ask Allen.” With that, no one speaks as you piece Annie back together. You start with her arms, sewing her hands on then attaching them back to her body; after, you sew on her legs. Lastly, and most difficultly, you sew her head back on. Oliver helping you keeping it on her body while you stitch her. You smile sadly at your Frankenstein-ish, half bald doll then begin to cry again. You squish her to your chest, and sob. “Stupid Allen!  That ignorant ass! Look what he’s done to you! Mama’s going to be mad! He at least could have talked to me about you! But no! As usual he lost his temper!” You sob into the doll’s hair, breathing in her familiar scent. “Stupid me, maybe Francois was right.”

               “Now, now, don’t say that,” says Oliver quietly, putting a hand on your knee.

               “He should have realized that this doll was important to me! Why else would I carry it around?! I don’t care if I look like a child! It makes me happy! _He_ makes me happy! If he’s jealous of a doll then he’s the real child here! Stupid jerk face!”

               “So that’s really what you think about me?” asks a voice behind you.

               “You bet your as-Allen!” you squeal, glancing over at the living room entrance, which lead to the front foyer. You quickly turn back around and get up, then head towards one of the other exits.

               “Hey, now! Wait a second, would ya?!” he insists, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards him so that your back is pressed against his front, then wrapping his arms tightly around you. You begin wriggling, struggling against his grip.

“No! Now let me go! I don’t want to see you and that stupidly attractive face of yours!” you growl, knowing if you look at him long enough then you won’t be mad at him anymore. “Let go, Allen!”

               “Not until you hear what I have to say.”

               “Why should I listen to you?”

               “Because for once in my damn life I’m apologizing!” Allen yells in insistence.

               “Swear jar!” Oliver notes loudly from the couch, causing Allen to briefly glare at him before turning back to you.

               “Come on, babe,” Allen whines, pulling you closer to his warm body.

               “Don’t call me that, stupid face!” you growl, causing Allen to chuckle.

               “I thought you said my face was ‘stupidly attractive,” he notes, you blush and glare at the ground in front of you.

               “It’s still stupid!” Allen sighs, and, although unbeknownst to you, smiles in content; you’re as cute as ever when you’re trying to be mad at him.

   “Come on, I know your mad at me, [Name]. I know I probably should have realized that doll meant a lot to you.”  
“Nawh, really?” you spit sarcastically, this causes him to turn to around.

               “Will you shut up and listen? – I made a stupid mistake, alright? What the hell do you expect me to say? Because you were right – about everything. I got jealous because you used it as a security object and I felt like I didn’t make you, I don’t know, feel safe? Does that make sense? It just – took up so much of your attention and you talked to it and joked with it, even though it doesn’t talk back. It was like you didn’t need me anymore. And I fu-freaking, swear that thing kept watching me. It was freaking me out! I hadn’t realized that your mom made it for you, you never told me and – ”

               “Wait – were you standing there listening the entire time I was here?” you asked annoyed, Allen froze for a moment then huffed.

               “I followed you here because I didn’t want you getting attacked or hurt. I – I wanted to be able to play hero if you needed me so that you could see I – uh – that I stilled loved you, ya know? – Now will you please come home?!” Allen demands, you purse your lips and looked annoyed off to the side.

               “Fine,” you mutter, “but I’m still mad at you. Annie is, too! Now apologize to her!” You push Annie up into Allen’s face, causing him to pull back and blink in surprise. Allen sighs,

               “Fine. I’m sorry I was jealous of Annie.” But you shake your head disapprovingly,

               “Not to me. To _her_! To _Annie_!”

               “I’m not –” starts Allen.

               “Do you wanna fuck me sometime tonight or not, birthday boy?!” you growl, causing everyone to look at your blushing face in surprise. You didn’t normally say things like that in front of the family.

               “Alright, alright,” Allen sighs, and then looks your doll in the face. “I’m sorry, Annie.” Allen even adds a gently peck on your dolls forehead, causing you to smile.

               “Happy?”

               “Yes,” you pipe and nod, then pull the doll back to your chest. “Let’s go home.” Allen smirks down at you as he begins to push you towards the front door.

               “Alright, but that doll’s not coming in the bedroom with us. She’s staying out in the living room with the rest of your clothes.” You blush a deep crimson, then giggle.

               “Fine, it that’s what’ll make you happy.” Then you whisper to the doll, “sorry, my little cuddle stuffums, but daddy says ‘no.’” To this Allen just rolls his eyes, then lifts you up and gives you a piggy back ride all the way to the house.

 

~


End file.
